My analytical left brain makes determination that there is no way in hell the paper's going to be done for morning, and even if it was, it wouldn't matter, 'cause it was three days late to begin with, but it's now amost six.
My entire brain makes a derisive noise in the general direction of the paper as a whole.
(...and this is where the brain shuts down higher reasoning for the night and puts me to sleep...)
"*frown* LoTR shoulda gotten more awards... *muttermutter*"
Sleep. Sleep sounds like a *good* plan...